


Sunday Mornings

by Ricechex



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Divide & Conquer, M/M, Spoilers for major plot point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 08:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1219741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricechex/pseuds/Ricechex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tell me what that tastes like."</p>
<p>Zane frowned. "It... it's maple syrup," he said. "Wait, did you-"</p>
<p>"I didn't do anything to the maple syrup, relax." Ty squeezed Zane's hand. "Try again. This time, don't tell me what it is. Tell me what you think about when you taste it."</p>
<p>Zane swallowed and nodded. "Sunday mornings."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Shmoop (sort of) because I have a lot of feels about Zane being blind for a while in _Divide & Conquer_. Also, Sunday mornings were when my dad would make his Super Duper Flip Flop Flapjacks, so yeah, shamelessly taking good memories of my own and using them to give the boys here a semi-sweet moment together. Set during _Divide & Conquer_, but not during any super-specific time aside from the period when Zane, ya know, couldn't see.

Zane sighed for what Ty was certain would prove to be the twelfth time that morning. "What?" he asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

"Nothing," Zane answered. He scraped his fork along his plate in slow, careful movements, and Ty gritted his teeth at the noise. It wasn't Zane's fault; well, yes actually, yes it was - he was the one standing too close to that damn explosion, after all. Ty swallowed against the guilt that swelled when he remembered that Zane had been rendered blind while Ty had caught a nap in the truck, and took a deep breath in through his nose.

"Zane," he said, voice quieter and gentler. "Talk to me, baby."

Zane put his fork down and shoved his face into his hands. "I just... I'm useless and helpless and that's not something I'm used to being."

Ty hummed in understanding. Zane was taller and broader than he was; most of the time it was a foreign concept to them both, which made coping with the times they were proven to be vulnerable that much harder. Ty looked at their plates, then smirked.

"Close your eyes," he said.

Zane's hands slipped down to cover just the lower half of his face, and he glared. He was getting better at guestimating where Ty's face was, but he was still a bit off, glaring at Ty's ear instead of his eyes. "That supposed to be funny?"

"I'd be laughing if it was," Ty said. "Come on." He reached down and jabbed his pointer finger into a thick trail of maple syrup that lingered on his plate, and held it up for inspection. "Humour me?"

Zane grunted, but dropped his hands and closed his eyes. Ty smiled.

"Open up."

"I swear to _God_ , if you make airplane noises I'm going to kick your ass up and down the fucking street."

"Tempting," Ty said, his grin growing wider by the second.

"Ty."

"Please."

With a heavy sigh, Zane opened his mouth and waited. Ty let his finger hover in front of Zane's mouth and nose for a moment, then dipped it between his lips and pressed the pad of it to Zane's tongue. Zane's mouth latched on, sucking gently as his tongue swirled around the digit. Ty bit his lower lip, wondering if he might be able to convince Zane to go back to bed after this.

"OK, gimme back my finger," he said, pulling it away. Zane growled. "None of that. Now." Ty wiped his hand with a napkin before reaching out and taking Zane's hand. Without hesitation, Zane laced their fingers together. "Tell me what that tastes like."

Zane frowned. "It... it's maple syrup," he said. "Wait, did you-"

"I didn't do _anything_ to the maple syrup, relax." Ty squeezed Zane's hand. "Try again. This time, don't tell me what it is. Tell me what you think about when you taste it."

Zane swallowed and nodded. Ty could see him thinking about how to answer. His tongue darted between his lips, and Ty watched as it ran over the pink flesh. He shivered as his mind began teasing him with scenarios involving those lips.

"Sunday mornings."

Ty blinked, then smiled. "Yeah?"

Zane nodded. "Sunday mornings in winter, when I was a kid. My dad was always the last into bed and the first out of it, and Sundays he'd wake up before the rest of us and make pancakes. I remember doing chores, and Annie playing in the kitchen as he worked." He laughed. "He'd ask if we wanted feed in the batter, like we'd give the horses." His tongue came out again, and Ty watched as he talked. "Back then I didn't... I remember thinking Sundays were the best days ever, because they were the one day I didn't hear my mother complaining." He squeezed Ty's hand, grinning. "I didn't have to be _Zane Zachary Garrett_. Didn’t have to be the example for my baby sister. I could just be..." He stopped, but he was still smiling. "I could be whomever I wanted to be," he finished, bringing Ty's hand up to kiss his knuckles. He missed the first time and nearly kissed his own fingers.

Ty laughed as Zane flushed, correcting himself and kissing Ty's hand a few extra times. "You're cute when you blush, you know that?"

Zane opened his eyes again, gaze pointing in front of him instead of towards Ty as he cocked his head. "That so?"

Ty hummed again. "Yeah, it is."

With a smirk, Zane leaned to his side, tipping his head a bit further. Ty met him halfway, pressing their lips together before opening his mouth to deepen the kiss.

"How'd I get so lucky," Zane asked, "to be the one who comes home to you?"

"I have a feeling most people wouldn't see it as _lucky_ ," Ty replied.

"That's because they're jealous," Zane said, smiling against Ty's mouth. "They don't know what it's like to be loved by you."

Ty felt his gut clench at the words, so easily said without any hint that Zane might say it in return. Ty knew, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t holding out hope of hearing it out loud.

“Yeah,” he said.

“And their loss is my gain,” Zane said, turning his hand so that he could rub the pad of his thumb over Ty’s knuckles.

“Tell me about Sunday mornings?”

Zane hummed. “I used to get up and go make sure the horses were fed and warm enough while my dad mixed up batter.”

“You didn’t have, what, ranch hands for that?”

Zane smiled. “We did. But my dad was a firm believer in me learning how to do this stuff myself too. _You can’t own a ranch if you know nothing about what it takes to make it work_.” Ty smiled as Zane talked. “So I would check on the horses, make sure they had water and blankets. Annie was still pretty young, but eventually she got big enough to come toddling out behind me.” Zane’s smile turned much softer now. “It was probably a lot different for you, having a brother so close in age.”

“Well, that and the lack of horses,” Ty said, and Zane snorted out a laugh.

“Yeah.”

Ty’s finger dipped into the syrup again. “Open up.”

Zane did so, closing his eyes without prompting this time.

“What’s it taste like this time?” Ty asked, swirling his fingertip on Zane’s tongue.

“Home,” Zane said.

“Texas sounds awfully sweet.”

Zane shook his head. “Not Texas.”

Ty waited, but Zane didn’t elaborate. He licked his lips again, and Ty watched him for another moment, then stood and tugged on his hand. “Come on.”

“What? Where are we going?”

Ty pulled Zane up, hands cupping his cheeks as he kissed him. Zane’s arms closed around Ty’s waist, and Ty grinned against his lips. “Maybe I wanna take you back upstairs and see if we can give you something else to think about when you eat pancakes.”

Zane shivered. “That… sounds like a really, _really_ good idea.”

 


End file.
